You're Getting Ancient
by officerbuttbaby
Summary: A collection of various documents from the boys' junior year. ON HIATUS UNTIL SPBB ENDS
1. Wendy

so this is the first fic i've ever written.  
>some of the plot elements have probably been done a bazillion times but hopefully it's presented in a way that is "fresh" or "hip" or whatever the hell you young people say nowadays.<p>

disclaimer: i do not own south park or any of the movies, tv shows or music i happen to make reference to.

* * *

><p>Wednesday, October 28th.<p>

If I survive junior year without being incarcerated for murder it'll be a bigger miracle than Jesus.

When I turned thirteen I told my parents to stop giving me presents because it wasn't right that millions of kids overseas never celebrated their birthdays, but every year they insist on giving me something whether I like it or not.  
>I opened my present at breakfast. Ever since I told my mom I wanted to go vegan she's been using substitutions in everything. Most of the time she doesn't get it right, but the soy milkEgg Beaters french toast she made for breakfast was surprisingly good. As I tore off the recycled wrapping paper my dad told me, "It would do you good to let your feelings out once in a while." So here I am. Writing in a diary about my life because I feel too guilty to not use it.  
>At least it's eco-friendly.<p>

And I _do _let my feelings out, but only because Bebe won't shut up until I tell her what's bothering me. And trust me, I've tried lying to her. It's no use.  
>But I digress.<p>

On the way to school I spotted Kenny McCormick walking on the side of the road. Apparently he missed the bus because the electric company disconnected his power and the only reason he woke up this early is because his dad had just gotten in from the bar and was screaming at his mom (he explained this to me on the way. My car thermometer said 11 degrees and I was not going to let him catch his death of pneumonia). When I pulled into my parking spot he asked if I wanted a quickie, which I answered by slapping him.  
>Typical morning.<p>

I have AP Language first period with Stan, Kyle and Red. The latter two are usually in the back of the room texting each other and giggling in between taking notes (they were a lot more physical until Kyle got a B on his progress report). Today was no different. Since the lovebirds only have one class together and the Super Best Friends have three, Stan cuts Kyle some slack and sits in the desk next to mine.

Stan and I are… complicated. You know how in elementary school you had "boyfriends" or whatever? That was Stan. Only we continued dating throughout middle school until I finally broke up with him the summer before freshman year. I told him I couldn't use any distractions between the Ivy League and myself, which was true, but in all honesty it was because we acted like we'd been together sixty years instead of six. There was no passion on his part unless I threatened to break up with him. When I did, he would start begging me not to until I assured him I wasn't.  
>Kyle told me he stayed in his room for a week listening to Morrissey after I dumped him. (I was more surprised at the fact that he listens to Morrissey, considering the one time he let me go through his iPod it had a strict "No Whiny Music Allowed" policy.) I don't know if that was supposed to guilt-trip me, but it didn't. For once.<br>My dad, the only psychiatrist in South Park, says it sounds like he has underlying abandonment issues evidenced by his behavior towards me and the hoarding problems he's had on and off since elementary school. I don't really question it because it makes sense. Sort of.

Presently, Stan and I are friends. We study together every Tuesday with Kyle, Red, Butters, Token, Tweek and Bebe when she doesn't have late cheerleading practice. (It's actually a lot of fun. If we have a test the next day we'll meet at Tweek's dad's coffee shop and he lets us sample new coffee blends by calling us his "test audience.") But lately Stan has gotten really… I dunno. I want to say clingy, but that's probably not the right word. He'll ask me if I want to hang out after football practice but when I say I can't because I have Debate or SGA or violin until 6:00 he sounds okay but he gets this really hurt look in his eyes. By "really hurt" I mean "as bad as those Sarah McLachlan crack baby commercials." And I'm not entirely sure it's because he still wants me back or not.

Yesterday during first he asked if I wanted to go to Token's Halloween party with him, immediately added "as friends" and explained that he was driving Kyle and Red. So I said yes because 1.) I felt like I owed it to him since he's been wanting to hang out for weeks and 2.) I could relate. You have your share of awkward third wheel moments when Bebe Stevens is your best friend.  
>I did throw in a condition, though: no Raggedy Ann and Andy costumes.<p>

With that being said, the party's on Saturday and I have no idea what to dress up as. Bebe said to just put on lingerie like every other girl going. I told her I was PMSing, which was true, but I don't even own lingerie. Nor do I really want to own any. I should probably find my old Chewbacca mask. Maybe if they had a contest I'd win first place.  
>Psh.<p>

ANYWAY, second period is French III, otherwise known as the Wendy/Bebe Power Hour. (And A Half.) Our teacher is the sweetest lady imaginable but runs the school paper so she's usually busy with that. We end up watching Disney movies with French subtitles and getting homework assignments I usually finish before the class ends. And that's with Bebe chattering away in my ear the entire time.

Then there's lunch. I sit with the entire study group except Red and Tweek because they have the other lunch period. Stan made me swear on my Prius that I would not discuss classwork at the table because "some of us need a break. If you need to study, go to the goddamn library." It was tough at first, and sometimes I do go to the library, but I got over it quickly.

Third period is APUSH, which nearly everyone I know is in. Everyone except Red, Tweek and Kenny, but it's really a wonder Kenny's made it this far. (I think he's trying to become the first member of his family to graduate and I'll applaud his effort unless he tries to hit on me. Then I applaud his face. With my hand.)

By everyone, I mean I have to deal with _him._

Eric Cartman.

He is, quoting a movie I saw on TV one night when I couldn't sleep, "a boil on the butt of humanity." I can't talk about him without wanting to see the life go out of his eyes as I cut off his air supply with my bare hands.  
>I am staunchly against capital punishment, donate often to human rights organizations and occasionally go to protests in Denver, but eradicating him from the face of the earth would singlehandedly be the most humanitarian thing I'd ever do.<br>If anyone were reading this they'd probably be asking "Jeez, Wendy, what's so bad about this guy?"  
>I think it'd be easier if I listed what isn't wrong with him.<p>

…

…

…

Okay, there actually is something.

As much as it pains me to admit it, his ambition and perseverance are pretty admirable qualities. No matter how many times someone or something thwarts his plans of taking over the world or making Kyle suffer (usually some plan that involves both), he is always back next week with another one. God, I feel like I'm saying Hitler had a good method other than the whole murdering Jews and gays thing. As if I don't suffer from enough Catholic guilt.

I'm officially agnostic but when I don't have anything school-related to do on Sundays Mom makes me go to church with her to "expand my religious horizons." How does that even count if I've been going there my entire life?  
>And I'd go to temple with Kyle sometime for the religious horizon expansion if his mom didn't scare me so much. I went to his house once during ninth grade and she pretty much interrogated me on why I was there and if I had any intentions to date him. I told her straight up I didn't see him in that way and for some reason she got offended. And then last year I saw her at Jim's Drugs and she glared at me for a whole ten seconds before turning back around and whispering something in Mr. Broflovski's ear.<p>

Okay, so I'm not allowed to be just friends with guys. Good to know.

But back to what I was talking about.

In APUSH we were split into to two groups and had to write/perform an informative skit on The Kansas-Nebraska Act. The teacher put me in charge in one group, then most likely suffered a brain lapse because she picked _him_ to helm the other. Actually, no, I take that back. The last time we were in a group together… I'll keep it short this time. Butters had to be rushed to the hospital because he was caught in the crossfire and then his parents grounded him so he hasn't been able to go to study group for the past three weeks. (Note to self: look up number to Child Protective Services.)  
>Since his group was going to present last, Cartman had first pick.<br>"Stan."  
>Goddamn it. He knew I always picked Stan first because of his public speaking abilities. I watched him join Jabba the Hutt on the opposite side of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose in stress. Cartman took advantage of the fact that I was looking in his direction and smiled contemptuously, waving one of his gargantuan hands in a Princess Diana-type fashion.<br>My turn.  
>"Craig."<br>Two can play that game, Jumbotron.  
>The thing about Craig is he's in the Drama Club, therefore everyone wants him in their groups. Not because of his acting, though. Ironically, he hates everything about being onstage and sabotages any attempt to get him to perform. Writing is his genius, and every fall the Drama Club sponsors one of his plays. This year's consisted of twenty monologues about objects found in a garbage bag. I don't know anyone who actually saw it, but apparently a critic from Denver gave it a four-star review.<br>Back to him.  
>"Butters."<br>Oh come _on_, we both know you're just going to make him your bitch again.  
>"Kyle."<br>Sorry, Stan.  
>"Heidi."<br>Ew. Bebe and I used to be friends with her until she started a rumor that she saw Bebe giving our gym teacher a blowjob during freshman year. The school investigated it and even though the rumor was completely false and there was no evidence whatsoever, they fired him anyway. (She did think he was hot, though.)  
>"Bebe."<br>I know I should have picked her first, considering we're almost as close as Stan and Kyle, but for me it's about picking the best person for the team. I have leadership, Craig has talent, Kyle has brains and Bebe has sex appeal. Don't get me wrong, Bebe is incredibly smart. She just also happens to know how to use her assets to her advantage.  
>"Sally."<br>Sally was even worse than her cousin Heidi. The only thing I'm going to say is there's a reason why everyone calls her "Powder."  
>"Token."<br>In case Craig decided to write a musical number.  
>"Jimmy."<br>Damn. We needed a joke contributor. Craig is probably the most serious person I know. And I know Al Gore.  
>It continued in that fashion until the last person, Kevin, joined my team on the left side of the room.<br>So we put our desks in a circle and went around discussing ideas. Craig scribbled down the good ones and told us to give him about twenty minutes to finish it.  
>Token and Kyle talked amongst themselves. Bebe asked the teacher if she could use the restroom. Others decided to go get a drink from the water fountain. I took this time to reread everything in my textbook pertaining to the Kansas-Nebraska Act in case Craig had any questions.<br>Well, that was my plan.  
>A little after I put in my earphones and became immersed in Chapter 11 I felt a slight tugging sensation in the back of my head.<p>

And then I heard the scissors snip a fraction of a second after I pulled out the earphones.

* * *

><p>When I say I don't recall what happened after that, I mean I could rack my brains for a month and I still wouldn't be able to tell you what I did. The next thing I do remember, though, is Principal Elizabeth's spit hitting my face as she screamed at me.<br>"Do either of you know how many tax dollars are spent cleaning up your messes?"  
>It didn't occur to me that there was someone in the chair to my right until after she finished asking the question. And that particular someone usually isn't hard to spot a mile away in blizzard conditions.<br>When I wiped the saliva (which is, incidentally, THE most disgusting word in the English language) off my face I suddenly remembered the events prior to my blackout and frantically checked the nape of my neck.  
>The thing about my hair is I've been growing it out and donating it to Locks of Love every other year since I was ten. Before third period yesterday, it all used to be a few inches above my waist. When I checked, everything was okay except HOLY SHIT THERE'S A GIANT CHUNK MISSING I AM GOING TO KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER.<p>

At least I'm alive. At least I have all of my limbs. At least my parents weren't fed to me as chili. It was only a chunk of hair. He cut it a little shorter than what I'm used to but I could deal with that. Stay calm, We-  
>Too late. I screamed.<br>"I will not tolerate this behavior, Miss Testaburger!" The only time I had ever seen her this angry was when the Westboro Baptist Church held the entire student body hostage last year.  
>"I'm sorry." I sank further down in my chair. "I know this probably sounds weird to you, but I honestly can't remember what I did."<br>Derisive laughter rang out to my right. "Really, hippie? At least when I do something wrong I'll admit to it!"  
>Against my better judgment I turned to look at him. Other than the black eye and giant bruise on the side of his face I apparently gave him, he only barely resembled the egregious nine-year-old I once beat up for making fun of breast cancer. At a whopping 6'4" he's the tallest person in our class, isn't nearly as fat as he used to be, and honestly, if I didn't hate him more than anything else in the entire universe I'd probably consider him…<br>God, am I really saying this?  
><em>Attractive.<em>

Excuse me, I have to go vomit now.

"What are you talking about? You never admit to anything!"  
>"I do too!"<br>"Name one thing."  
>"Okay. I admit you are a hippie bitch who needs some ointment for all that sand in your vagina."<br>"YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW, YOU FAT ASSHOLE!"  
>"AY!"<br>"STUDENTS!"

We were out of our chairs, my fist was clenched and he had rolled up one of the sleeves of his jacket. He looked at me like I was a steaming pile of cow shit and I glared right the fuck back at him. I didn't care if he's over a foot taller than me. I wasn't intimidated by that despicable bastard. What I did care about was Principal Elizabeth doing anything which might hinder my chances of getting into Harvard. So I hastily apologized to her and sat back down.

"I would expect this from Mr. Cartman but not from you!" As more spit flew in my face I felt myself shrinking. "Assaulting one of your fellow classmates is one thing, but blatantly lying and saying you don't remember is another."

Wait, what?

"But I really don't-"  
>"DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME!"<br>At this point I felt like one of the Borrowers.  
>I looked over at Cartman.<br>"You heard the lady, hippie," he muttered before he mockingly flashed me that Invisaligned grin of his.  
>She continued. "I have no choice but to assign you two weeks detention."<p>

Wait, _what_?

I gave someone a black eye, called them a fat asshole _in front of the principal_, then proceeded to "talk back" to said principal and the only thing I get is _detention_? As much as I'm going to hate missing an hour of all my after-school activities, I was imagining a far, far worse punishment. I tried my best to look convincingly sad. Cartman looked like he had just successfully embezzled ten million dollars from the National Association of Ginger Jew Hippies.  
>"And don't think you're getting off scot-free, Mr. Cartman. You're still getting one week for that stunt you pulled on Miss Testaburger."<br>He said it the exact time I was thinking it: "Oh, GodDAMN it!"  
>"Do you want me to make it two?"<br>"No, ma'am," he said, staring at his feet.  
>She glanced at her watch. "Well, class is ending in five minutes and I'm late for a meeting with the Superintendent. I suggest one of you go ahead to your next period and the other one get your homework and makeup assignments from Mrs. Cooper. Is that clear?"<p>

Wait. Exactly how long did I black out?

"Yes, ma'am."  
>She promptly exited her office.<br>Cartman and I started to walk out at the same time until he held the door open and said, "After you, hippie."  
>"You're just going to cut the rest of my hair off."<br>"I am not, ho!"  
>I ignored him and walked out of the door before he had a chance to pull out the scissors.<br>"I was going to admire my handiwork, thank you very much!"  
>"Admire this, Fatass." I took a page out of Craig's book and gave him the ol' One Finger Salute.<br>"Ay!"

* * *

><p>"Wait, Kyle, check and see if she's Wendy again."<br>"You do it, dude. Red'll kill me she finds out I've been gazing into girls' eyes that aren't hers."

The Super Best Friends stood a reasonable distance away from me until Stan slowly stepped forward and cocked his head to examine my face.  
>My last class is Pre-Calc. I passed both Algebras and Geometry with grades in the mid 90s and I can't even wrap my head around what I'm being taught. Will I ever have to know anything about complex numbers outside of maybe taking a class on it in college? Probably not. Am I regretting not signing up for AP Stats? You bet your sweet recycled paper ass I am.<p>

But thankfully, Kyle's in this class. And thankfully, Kyle's the only person who actually _likes_ this stuff. And also thankfully, the teacher lets us pair off into groups of three to work on our 15 page study guides every Tuesday.

"Yeah, she's alright," he turned back to inform him, then faced me again. "You can come sit with us so long as Cartman doesn't burst in trying to blame Kyle for killing Jesus or stealing Clyde Frog or whatever the hell he makes up this week."  
>"You guys, I don't even know what happened." I said in the midst of pushing our desks together. "I remember taking out my earbuds and the next thing I know I'm sitting in Principal Elizabeth's office getting the Yell And Spit. And then when I tried to tell them that they didn't believe me."<br>"Well, I believe you," Stan stated as he pulled his textbook out of his bag. "Cartman picked me to be in his group, remember? When you turned around you kind of looked like Drew Barrymore in _Firestarter._"  
>"Shit. I didn't set anyone aflame, did I?" I was actually concerned about that. I HATE when innocent bystanders get hurt just because that evil douchebag and I have at it once in a while.<br>"Of course not." Kyle turned to the section in his binder labeled "POLYNOMIALS", then added "You did do sort of a…" He paused to think. "Stan, how would you describe it?"  
>"A banshee scream? I dunno." He shrugged. After he placed his study guide on top of his textbook, he looked at me and said, "Look, I'm going to tell you what I told Kyle after that time Cartman tried to Holocaust-tattoo the numbers from <em>LOST<em> on his wrist. He likes it when people react to his antics. Maybe if you started being nice to him he'd die of shock and nobody will ever have to hear the phrase 'respect mah authoritah!' again."  
>I turned to Kyle. "If he told you that, why is Cartman still alive?"<br>"I have anger issues," he said as he wrote something down in his study guide. "No matter how much I try to act calm, it's only that much worse when I do lash out at him. Or at someone else."  
>"Remember when I broke my arm in sixth grade?" Stan asked. I nodded. "We never told anyone this, but Kyle decided to get back at Cartman for kidnapping Ike the week before. He set up a booby trap in his front doorway. What he <em>didn't<em> know was Cartman had stolen my copy of The Sims 3 and I went to his house to yell at the son of a bitch. So…" He made a crunching noise. "Until now, we've just been hoping karma'll rear its head by making all of his children have red hair."

We went through rest of the period in silence, other than the occasional "What did you get for number whatever?" or "Stan, you're doing it wrong." Then after I packed my things and copied down the homework assignment I turned to both of them and said "Okay. I'll do it."  
>"Sweet." Stan had the most mischievous grin on his face. If I said it wasn't reminiscent of everyone's favorite fatass, I'd be lying. "I never asked. How in the hell are you not suspended?"<br>"I'm wondering that myself." I pushed my desk back to where it previously was. "She gave me detention for two weeks. I'll obviously still be able to do study group but missing an hour of Debate's going to be a bitch."  
>"Ah, I'm sure you won't miss much." Kyle put his neck through the strap of his messenger bag. "Mr. Dixon probably won't even notice you're gone."<br>"True." It was a rare day our Debate adviser didn't fall asleep in the middle of watching us argue.

As the bell rang and students poured out of the classroom, Stan patted me on the back and said, "Good luck. And remember: _be nice_."

* * *

><p>Cartman didn't show up for detention. Apparently he had convinced Principal Elizabeth to start his next week because he has football practice all week and a game in Conifer on Friday.<br>Fuck you, asshole, you're just going to use that excuse next week because it's Homecoming and you _know_ she'll have to let you off the hook again.  
>On the bright side, at least I wouldn't have any distractions.<p>

Wrong.  
>Wrong wrong.<br>Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.

With the exception of French, which I finish in class, I have to do my homework in order of what time I have it. I read the two chapters of _Walden _that were assigned so it was it was about half an hour before it dawned on me that Cartman had the APUSH homework. I asked Señor Adams if I could check to see if Mrs. Cooper was still here. He said no, but he'd do it.  
>Great.<p>

I pulled out my iPhone. (My parents have a family plan. If it were up to me I'd have the most archaic phone imaginable. Or no phone at all. Maybe.) I didn't have his number so I couldn't leave him an angry voicemail like I so desperately wanted to do at that moment.

Bebe? No, she's at cheerleading practice.  
>Stan? Also at football.<br>Kyle?

Kyle Broflovski

**What do we have to do for APUSH?**

And now I wait.

I waited until Señor Adams came back, informed me that she had already left for the day and went back to grading quizzes with his giant headphones on to check again. Nothing. Shit.

Butters? His parents take away his phone when he's grounded.  
>Red? No, she had Physics that period.<br>Craig? He never did his homework.  
>Token? Guess where he was.<br>Tweek? He dropped it for Honors History the first week of class. He said something about too much pressure.

I was beginning to lose all hope until I felt a large hand thump the back of my head.  
>"Ho."<p>

I turned around. "Cartman, I swear to God-"  
>"You'll what? Make a 1 on the exam?"<p>

It took a second before it registered he had on every single piece of protective football gear imaginable, including his jockstrap which he had on over his shorts.

And at this point I don't know what came over me. I just started giggling like a twelve-year-old at a Justin Bieber concert.

"Ay!"

I had doubled over and tears were running down my face. I tried stopping, but it was no use. I'd look away and almost calm down enough to answer only I'd accidentally see the jockstrap again and erupt in another fit of laughter. It was probably the funniest thing I've ever seen.  
>To <em>think<em> he was so scared of getting his ass beat again…

"Well fine, bitch, if you don't want this makeup work I will gladly return to where I came from."  
>"No! No. I'm sorry. I just-" I was finally able to make a straight face. (Tip: If you ever want to stop laughing about something, always think of the starving kids in Africa. It worked for me about as instantly as Chipotlaway.) "Okay. Yes, I do need the work."<br>He reached through his helmet and put a hand on his chin as if he were pontificating. "You forgot to say the magic words."  
>Jesus Christ. "…Please and thank you?"<br>"No."  
>"Avada kedavra?"<br>"Quit trying to cast your evil hippie voodoo on me."  
>"You're one to talk about evil."<br>"You have to get down on your knees and say 'You, Eric Theodore Cartman, are the most awesomest and best looking guy around and could you please give me the work or else I'll die a death of not doing enough homework?'"  
>"'Awesomest' isn't even a word."<br>"I don't hear you saying it, hippie. I guess I'll just leave." He headed towards the door.

I checked my phone again. Still nothing. What the hell was I missing in Debate?

"FINE." I kneeled in front of him and said with my most overdramatic Scarlett O'Hara impression, "You, Eric Theodore Cartman, are the most awesome and best looking guy around and could you please, PLEEEEASE, give me the work or else I'll die a death of not doing enough homework?"  
>"Heheheheh. Pretty nice. You didn't say awesomest, though."<br>"So what, am I going to have to repeat it?"  
>"Maybe. Maybe not."<br>"Just give me the goddamn envelope!" I snatched it out of his hand before he had the chance to raise it out of my reach. He surprisingly didn't yell.  
>"Whatever. Have fun with Señor Skullcandy."<br>"Have fun with Pete, Georgie, and Dim, Fatass."  
>"Ay! Wait, what?"<br>"You've never seen _A Clockwork Orange?_"  
>"I've heard of it, but my interests do not include dumb art movies about gay cowboys eating pudding."<br>"One: it's not an art movie, and two: you're thinking of _Brokeback Mountain_." I thought about it for a second and added, "Well, I guess _A Clockwork Orange _is an art movie, but-"  
>"I lost interest in this conversation a long time before you started babbling about fruit." he walked out of the classroom, turned back around, tipped his helmet like as if it were a top hat and said "Good day to you, Testicleburger."<br>I rolled my eyes and immediately tore into the envelope. It consisted solely of a note from the teacher.

_Wendy,  
><em>_I talked to several students who said you were acting out of self-defense, therefore I am not assigning you anything other than your homework. Please read Chapters 12 and 13 and answer all of the essay questions at the end of the unit. I hope you feel better tomorrow.  
><em>_(Scribbly teacher signature)_

…Was this some trick of Cartman's to make me get a zero? And of course at that exact moment I heard my phone vibrate in my purse.

Kyle Broflovski

**What do we have to do for APUSH?**

_Chapters 12 & 13 & all essay q's_

Okay, so he wasn't lying about that. I quickly responded with

**Did you by any chance see Cooper  
><strong>**give Cartman an envelope at the end**** of class?**

I looked at the time. 3:45. I decided to read my textbook until Kyle answered.

_Yeah_

3:48.

I considered that the end of the conversation until:

_Why didn't Stan tell me he was_  
><em>taking you to Token's party?<em>

Ten more minutes.

**Uh, I don't know. Ask Stan.**

Nine.

_I heard it from Cartman_

**How the hell does Cartman know?**

Eight.

_Idk. I thought he was lying so I_  
><em>thought I'd ask you about it<em>

Seven.

**Well if it's any consolation we're  
><strong>**only going as friends. Also he said  
><strong>**something about 'not wanting to  
><strong>**be alone' or whatever.**

Six.

_Cartman pretty much made it_  
><em>out to be a big deal<em>

**What do you expect? It's Cartman.**

Five.

_He's going w/Sally_

**j;ldsfkgjflkgsdjfkl**

Powder?  
>He's going with <em>Powder?<br>_JESUS TAPDANCING CHRIST.

**He's totally making that up.**

Four.

_I thought so too till I asked Red_

**I never had any doubts she'd stoop  
><strong>**that low but I didn't think it would  
><strong>**be in high school.**

Three.

_What can I say? That where'll_  
><em>do anything for coke<em>

_Whore*_

_Stupid autocorrect_

**Don't call Sally a whore, Kyle. ****It's  
><strong>**degrading to actual prostitutes.**

_LOL_

Two.

**I think I'm going to take a mental  
><strong>**health day and do something about  
><strong>**my hair. Could you please tell  
><strong>**Dixon I got sick in detention or  
><strong>**something?**

**Oh, and remember **we're meeting at **  
><strong>**Token's for study group at 7:00  
><strong>instead of 6:00.<strong>**

_Will do (:_

One.

**I almost forgot. Did Cartman ever  
><strong>**say why he cut my hair?**

_Stan told me Cartman made him_  
><em>be a woman in their skit so he<em>  
><em>tried to make a wig or st_

**Ugh. That is so classic him.**

I wanted to add "but he picked pretty much all the girls in the class besides Bebe and me" but it wouldn't be any use. As much as he never gives up or whatever it was I said earlier, the boy has some serious flaws in his logic.

* * *

><p>The student parking lot is (unfortunately) adjacent to the football field. As I walked out to my car I could see Stan basically skipping towards me. It was no use to go any faster considering he he letters in indoor track when football season is over. Couldn't I just go find the nearest hair salon in peace?<br>"Hey."  
>"Hey yourself."<p>

Awkward silence.

"So, uh, have you given any thought to what you want to do for Saturday?"  
>"Not really."<br>"I was thinking maybe Dr. Manhattan and Laurie Juspeczyk but then Fatass went and cut your hair…"

I swear to God I heard the faintest of "AY!"s coming from the football field.

"Your mom would never let you paint yourself blue."  
>"Yeah, I thought about that. If Kyle wasn't doing the whole BatmanPoison Ivy thing with Red we could have gone as Terrance and Ph-"  
>"Idea," I interrupted. "Why don't we just go as two separate characters?"<br>"Oh." Goddamn it, not that look again. "Yeah, that's cool. Anyway, I gotta get back before Coach McGuirk takes me aside and gives me a speech on… something." The expression on his face signified he had no idea what the topic of that speech would be. "I guess I'll see you at Token's." Defeated, he traipsed back to the football field, disappearing behind the bleachers.

Well, shit.

* * *

><p>Bebe texted me while I was getting the rest of my hair chopped off. I told her where I was and she said she'd be there in five minutes.<br>The hairstylist was in the middle of blow drying when she waltzed through the door. Then, spotting me, she froze. Her purse made a weird _clunk_ as it dropped on the tile.  
>"Oh my GOD!"<br>She then proceeded to run up, jerk me out of the chair and hug me like we hadn't seen each other in thirty years.  
>"It is so ADORABLE," she squealed as if she were in a pet shop. The hairstylist, a balding man in his mid-40s, was not amused.<br>"Okay, we get it, the hair's nice. Can I finish?"

As he began drying again I texted her about getting detention, Cartman showing up in all his protective gear and the conversation I had with Stan in the parking lot.

"He totally still loves you," she said as soon as the man clicked off the hairdryer.

"How can you be so sure?" I almost started to head out the door until I remembered I still had the apron on. "I mean, his mom's getting remarried, Shelly just moved back because she and Amir broke up and his best friend in the entire world spends all his time either studying or making out with his girlfriend. I doubt I'm the reason he's acting like this. And he knows I would hang out with him more if I weren't up to my elbows in homework and extracurriculars."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way out. I hadn't even looked the entire time I was there. My hair, although shorter than what I had hoped for, was actually not that bad. I reached in my purse, put my beret back on and linked arms with Bebe as we walked out onto the sidewalk.

"I just know these things, Wendy. I have Lovedar," she stated as if she were saying 'the sky is blue,' 'the grass is green' or 'Kyle's mom is a big fat bitch.'  
>I snorted. "You do not!"<br>"Yes I do!"  
>"Prove it, then." I stopped right in my tracks.<br>Bebe kept going for another two feet, then whipped around and said, "Kyle and Red."  
>"Okay. Anyone who knew them could have seen that."<br>"No. Anyone who knew _Red_ could have seen that. Kyle never let anyone know how he felt until Clyde's birthday party. Not even Stan."  
>"Well, yeah. Stan doesn't exactly adapt to change very well. Shakey's before Token's?"<br>"Sure. I'm buying." We rounded the corner. "But the thing was, I knew. I could see him looking at her in the hallway between classes."  
>"It's kind of hard to <em>not<em> look at her considering her hair's the shade of a bleeding pumpkin," I said as we stopped at my Prius. As I pressed the unlock button on my keys I added, "And if you based your 'prediction' solely on that, then it isn't 'Lovedar' or whatever. It's your highly astute observational skills. Where did you park?"  
>"I didn't. Annie dropped me off on the way to gymnastics."<br>"Then where's your car?" I asked as I put my keys into the ignition.  
>"I told you in French. I'm getting new brake pads."<br>"Oh. I… completely forgot about that."  
>"Wanna borrow some of my observational skills?"<p>

* * *

><p>Instead of eating there, we decided to get a couple of pizzas for the study group. We ran into Kenny who, according to Bebe, had started working there a few days ago. I awkwardly stood and watched them flirt with each other until Kenny's supervisor yelled at him to get back in the kitchen.<p>

As we sat back down on the vinyl-covered bench, I had to ask.  
>"Is there any guy between the ages of 16 and 35 you <em>aren't<em> attracted to?"  
>"Well… ugly guys." she laughed. After a few seconds of genuinely thinking about it she added in a hushed voice, "I guess Cartman, too, but only because he acts exactly the same as he did when he was eight." She saw the half-bemused, half-disgusted expression on my face and added "Okay. Hypothetical situation: I go to the club."<br>"And that you do-"  
>"I'm not finished," she said, ignoring my remark. "I go to the club, have a couple of cocktails and end up dancing with Cartman."<br>"Can we please change the subject?" I didn't want the mental image of my best friend grinding up against the only person I hate under a strobe light like I've seen her do a handful of times with other guys.  
>"No, no. Think about it. If I knew absolutely nothing about him or any of the things he's done or how fat he used to be… then yeah, I'd probably fuck him."<br>"EW!" I suddenly wasn't in the mood for pizza anymore, let alone any form of sustenance that could have been handed to me.  
>"Shh!" she clapped her hand over my mouth for a second, then sighed when she realized she was talking about the guy who had landed me in detention about five hours before. "Okay, fine, I'll talk about something else." she leaned back against the wall. "If Token doesn't make a move soon I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."<br>Token is literally the only straight guy we know, single or taken, who shows or has shown no interest in her at all. So naturally Bebe wants him more than anything.  
>"I don't get why you're <em>not<em> taking it into your own hands this time."

"You see, Wendy, Token is special."  
>Oh, God, not the '(insert guy here) Is Special' speech again. She does that every time she's contemplating leaving the Republic Of One-Night Stands to travel abroad in Relationshipland. It happens about every three months. She'll meet a really gorgeous guy who she'll want to settle for and when she does have him, she gets bored after a week and dumps him to go back to clubhopping in Denver every other weekend. I pretty much drowned her out by texting Mom my plans for the night.<br>"Yeah, I'm listening."

Thankfully before she could get to the corny metaphors Kenny came out of the kitchen with two pizza boxes in his hand. He asked if he could help us carry it out to my car and I reminded him that women are perfectly capable of handling something as simple as pizza, thank you very much. Bebe rolled her eyes at me and apologized.

And that bitch didn't even help. She just spent the entire time giving him her digits as I placed the pizzas in the back seat, got in the car, put on my seatbelt, cranked the engine, and heard a loud _thump_ as I backed out of my parking spot.

From what I can recall, Kenny had returned to work and a stray tabby had randomly run out in front of my back left tire. It died instantly, but that didn't mean I didn't cry. Actually, the word "cry" is probably an understatement.

* * *

><p>The rest of my night was slightly better. Under all the duress I was (and still currently am) under, I had forgotten that it was my birthday. I don't like making a big deal out of it, either, but Bebe tries to do something for me no matter what my opinions on celebrating are. Last year she bought me <em>Robin Hood <em>on DVD and snuck a bottle of Bailey's from her parents' liquor cabinet. It was the first time I had ever thrown up from drinking. (On a school night, even.) This year she surreptitiously asked Token's personal chef to make me a vegan chocolate birthday cake and brought it out after we had finished discussing Thoreau's opinions on Utopia.

I think the reason why I hate birthdays so much is because it's so goddamn awkward when people sing "Happy Birthday." Like, what am I supposed to do? Just stand there until everyone finishes singing so I can blow out the candles and make a wish that probably won't come true?  
>With that being said, I wished for the genocide in Uganda to stop.<p>

Then Bebe conjured a bottle of champagne from her purse and Stan made a really long toast about how great I am. It was one of the nicest things anyone's said about me, but standing there and listening to it was even more awkward than "Happy Birthday." I only had one glass, but Bebe had about five within a twenty-minute time frame and eventually started to hit on Token.

If she wasn't my best friend, it would have been hilarious. He was just standing there uncomfortably while she talked about how she'd like to "never go back" (her words, not mine). The slice of cake I ate pretty much soaked up that glass of champagne, so when Token looked over at me and mouthed the words "DO SOMETHING," I decided it was the time to take her home.

So I did. I've done this way too many times for her since i learned how to drive and she learned how to make fake IDs.

So now I'm home. I just now looked at the clock and I've been writing in this thing for three straight hours. It's technically Wednesday now so I'm changing the date and going back and putting everything as 'yesterday' instead of 'today.' It's one of the things I have to do or else it'll bother me. (I know that sounds like OCD, but it's not nearly that severe. It'll just annoy me to no ends and I'll end up in a horrible mood.)

Okay. I'm going to bed. If Cartman sneaks in and shaves my head during my sleep you'll be the first to know.  
>(Well, other than my parents. And the Sheriff's Department. And probably Cartman's mom.)<p>

* * *

><p>welp, that's it.<br>chapter two's going in another dimension; a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. a journey into a wondrous land of imagination: kenny's text messaging.  
>don't touch that dial.<p> 


	2. Kenny

i don't really know if i'm fanfictioning correctly.

how does one fanfiction?

author's note: all the misspellings are intentional. as great as it would be if everyone in the south park universe could spell and use (mostly) proper grammar, it's not really realistic. especially when texting.

disclaimer: i don't own south park. or apple. or droid.

* * *

><p>11:46<br>Poor Asshat

**guess who i saw at work**

_How the hell am I supposed  
><em>_to know_

_God damn it Kenny do you  
><em>_know what fucking time it is_

**yea but i cant sleep**

**answer the q fatass**

_Don't call me fatass you poor  
><em>_asshole_

_Ok FINE_

_Who_

**wendy n bebe**

_Why the fuck are you telling  
><em>_me this_

_Go to bed_

**wendy got her hair cut and  
><strong>**she looks even more fine than  
><strong>**usual**

_STFU_

**whoops 4got u dont like  
><strong>**when i talk about her**

_You did not_

**yea i dint  
><strong>**i just wanna talk abt how  
><strong>**id give up 1 of my arms to  
><strong>**see em make out**

**not my right one tho**

_GO TO BED_

**i cant fuckin sleep**

_And this is my problem…  
><em>_how?_

**idk**

**everythins ur fault**

_I hope you die_

**LOLOLOL**

**been there done that  
><strong>

**this afternoon even**

_How was it this time_

**the fuck u think**

**it hurt like hell**

_No you fucking dumbshit_

_How'd you fucking die_

**wendy ran me over**

_God damn it why does that  
><em>_hippie have to ruin all the  
><em>_things that make me happy_

_I'm the only person who gets  
><em>_to kill you_

**luv u 2 bro~**

_Gay…_

**technically bi**

_First of all stop it before your  
><em>_gay germs come through the  
><em>_phone_

_Secondly how can you spell  
><em>_out a word like technically  
><em>_and not spell out the word you_

**y does it matter**

_It just does you piece of shit_

**were not in english class**

_So what it's still hard to read_

**since when did u become  
><strong>**eric cartman, spellin nazi  
><strong>**extrordinare**

_Where the fuck have you been  
><em>_I've always been a Nazi_

**i kno fatass**

**i just didn't relize u care  
><strong>**so much abt other peoples  
><strong>**spellin habits**

_You sound uneducated_

_I'm going back to sleep_

**at least im passin history**

_OF COURSE YOU ARE YOU  
><em>_IMPOVERISHED ASSHOLE  
><em>_YOU'RE IN STUPID PEOPLE  
><em>_HISTORY_

**ooh u broke out tha big  
><strong>**words n caps lock. lemme  
><strong>**run 4 cover**

_IF WE LOSE TO CONIFER I'M  
><em>_BLAMING IT ALL ON YOU_

**chill bro**

**tha game isnt til fri**

**but ok ill leave u alone**

**goodnite**

**have fun thinkin bout tha  
><strong>**hippie when u beat ur  
><strong>**meat~~*~*~****

…

_You are such an asshat, Kenny._

* * *

><p>12:03AM<br>Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **kyle**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **KYLE**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** KYYYYYYYLLLEEE**

Me: _Kenneth, this is Kyle's mother. __Kyle has been caught  
>one too <em>_many times texting after bedtime. __I suggest you  
>go to sleep as well or <em>_else I will have to call your mother._

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **oh shit**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick**: sry mrs b**

Me: _You actually fell for that? Dude…_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** fuck u kyle**

Me: _Don't text that too loud; Red might __hear you and  
>think you're being <em>_serious_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** u do have a nice ass tho ;)**

Me:_ JESUS CHRIST_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **its tru**

Me: _I DON'T CARE_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** but thats not why im texting u**

Me: _Red already said no to a threesome __so quit asking_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** also wrong**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** bebe gave me her # but i died  
><strong>**and i lost it**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** do u have it**

Me: _You died? Wtf_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** i explaned this a billion times  
><strong>**for u already dude**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** u dont remember**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** u never remember**

Me: _No, I don't have Bebe's number_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** shoulda known u wouldnt**

Me: _Let me ask Red. If you text her she'll __think you're hitting on  
>her even if <em>_you don't say anything perverted_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **k**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** she really has ur balls in a microwave**

Me: _You've been hanging out at Tweek Bros. __a lot lately haven't you_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **yea when im not workin**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick: **how could u tell**

Me: _555-8375_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** thank u**

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** 303 or 719**

Me: _No problem dude_

Me: _303_

Me: _FYI: she got a little tipsy at  
><em>_Token's earlier_

Kenny 'Mack Daddy' McCormick:** NICE**

Me:_ Dude…_

* * *

><p>12:14<br>719-555-9384

**hey its kenny**

**if u don't get this til tmrw  
><strong>**its cool i just wanted 2 ask  
><strong>**if u wanted 2 go 2 tokens  
><strong>**party w/me**

**if not that's cool 2**

**bye**

* * *

><p>3:47<p>

_HAAAAY(:_

**sup**

_Nothing muchh . What about  
><em>_youu ?_

**i texted u 3 hrs ago…**

_Sorryyyy , I was asleep :\ But I'm  
><em>_up now if you want to talkk (:_

**do u relize what time it is**

_Whoopsss . :S_

**ur still drunk aren't u**

_How do you knowww ?_

**kyle**

**i lost where u wrote ur #  
><strong>**so i asked him**

**n he asked red**

**then he told me abt tokens**

_Hahahaahaha_

_Red is sooo luckyy.. We were  
>eachothers firstss .<em>

…**WAAAAT**

**wait**

**kyle or red**

**cos either 1 is a good ans**

_Kyle of coursee ._

**y dint he tell me this?**

_I didn't even tell wendyy_

**holy shit**

**when?**

_I shouldn't have said_  
><em>anything should I<em>

**prolly not**

**but i wont tell**

**r u sure it was him**

_I would have recognized_  
><em>that ass if it were my ownnn .<em>

**it is quite the legend**

**u never got back 2 me abt**  
><strong>tokens party<strong>

_Wait , whatttt ?_

**how much did u have 2  
><strong>**drink woman**

_Too much for me to_  
><em>remember this<em>  
><em>conversation in the<em>  
><em>morningg .<em>

**i thought so**

**go back 2 sleep bebe**

_Mmk ._

_Goodnighttt(:_

**bloody mary mix n  
><strong>****alka** seltzer r tha best  
><strong>**hangover cures btw**

_You think I'm not_  
><em>already a pro at this by now<em>

_LOL_

* * *

><p>FYI: cartman remembering kenny's deaths might be kind of important or something in later chapters. maybe. sort of.<br>and i had kyle have an iphone until i remembered humancentipad. haha.


	3. Stan

author's note: sorry this is so short. also, i'm thinking of maybe making a soundtrack to this when i finish it. maybe.

* * *

><p>When I talked to Mr. Mackey the other day he gave me what I think is the best advice I've gotten from an adult in South Park since Chef. He said to make a list of everything I like so when I'm sad I can read it and think about all the positive things in my life. I'm actually in a good mood this morning, so here goes.<p>

Stan's (Probably Short) List of Things That Don't Make Me Want to Kill Myself And Why:  
>-Football. If you ever decide to actually do the deed, future self, remember that Cartman's your replacement and he can't throw worth a shit. Not feeling so suicidal anymore, are you?<p>

-Mom. Sure, she can be a little overbearing at times, but that's because she loves you and wants what's best for you. Dad would probably get drunk at the wake and do some sort of embarrassing overdramatic gesture even though you've only seen him three times a year since you were 10, so please don't subject her to that.

-The "Are You Ready For Some Football" playlist. If you somehow deleted it off of iTunes and replaced it with your "Cut My Life Into Pieces" playlist, it goes like this:  
>1. T.N.T. - ACDC  
>2. We're Not Gonna Take It - Twisted Sister<br>3. Song 2 - Blur  
>4. Iron Man - Black Sabbath<br>5. Jump Around - House of Pain  
>6. The Notre Dame Fight Song<br>7. Scentless Apprentice - Nirvana  
>8. The Stroke - Billy Squier<br>9. Rock N Roll Part 2 - Gary Glitter  
>10. We Are The Champions - Queen<p>

-Kyle. I know it seems like you guys never hang out anymore, but he does care about you a lot. Even if his girlfriend is a paranoid control freak who thinks you harbor some sort of romantic feelings towards him. (I was shitfaced and telling everyone how much I love them, okay? Except you, you dumb bitch. I've tried so hard to get along with you for the sake of Kyle and all you do is- oh, whoops, I'm supposed to write about things I like.) I kind of wish I were gay because I'd date the shit out of him if I were interested in dick other than my own. Which brings me to my next reason:

-Wendy. Be glad she's your friend, dude. If she doesn't like you like that, then that's cool. She'll probably realize how much you mean to her when she's at Harvard and finds out all the WASPs are total douchepackers.

-The fact that I graduate in less than two years. You might start to get anxious, but ask yourself this: do you want to stay in this shithole for the rest of your life?

Um. I can't really think of anything else. If you still want to die, I can't help you with that. Call a hotline or something.

Wait, I thought of another one:  
>-You won't have to deal with this stupid fucking English teacher and his stupid fucking new age music in about two months. So hold on until at least Christmas, dude.<p> 


	4. Butters

author's note: this chapter gave me so much hell. i was contemplating making him have delusions that he's Inspector Butters/write down all his thoughts in a film noir-esque monologue but writing like him is already a challenge within itself. and i'm sorry it's so short. but i'm making it up to you in the next couple of chapters. okay i'm done rambling now.

* * *

><p>Dear Dougie,<br>Hello! I would have written to you last month but my parents grounded me for my school picture then SuperGrounded me because I got in between Eric and Wendy fighting in History class and broke my nose. At least I can go as Owen Wilson to Token's Halloween party. That's going to be real fun!  
>My parents ungrounded me today! I wish they could have at least let me go to the study group on Tuesday because I'm having a little trouble in Chemistry and Dad said if I don't make straight As on my report card then it's three more weeks of bring grounded, mister! Oh, well. I can always try to ask someone else if they can help me. Eric tutored me last week during lunch and I still got an F on my homework! I always thought he was a real smart fellow, but then Kyle told me Eric doesn't even have Chemistry this semester!<br>I had color guard practice after school but it didn't last very long because I'm the only color guard person and I accidentally hit Mr. Mackey on the head with the flagpole. He didn't bleed but I gave him a real bad headache and I think that headache made him tired because he said he was going to go home to sleep.  
>When I went back inside the building Mark, Leroy and Timmy tried to get me to play Magic: The Gathering again but they must have forgotten my parents made me sell my cards on account of they think it's witchcraft. I had to pee so I went to the bathroom and saw Eric yelling real loud at Wendy outside the library when I came out. But the scary thing about it was Wendy wasn't yelling back! She always gets more ornery than a rattlesnake with hives when Eric teases her! Why, two days ago she punched him right in the face and called him all sorts of names right in front of our teacher! Maybe she felt bad that she did it and that's why she's being nice to him. I don't know. Then Eric spotted me and told me to go away or he'd give me a Hydrogen Wedgie. If you don't know what that is it's when someone gives you a wedgie but wraps your underwear around you twice before they put the elastic on your head. I've had one before. It isn't nice.<br>I miss you, Dougie. Now that you moved away I don't really have any close friends here anymore. I know the study group only lets me in because they feel sorry for me and Eric's busy with football practice and trying to avoid his house when the plumber comes over. Maybe sometime I can convince my parents to let me go to Denver to hang out with you or your parents can drive back to South Park one weekend so we can hang out. That would be real fun!  
>How is Denver? The last time I went was a year and a half ago. Has it changed? I'm thinking about going there for college.<br>Oh, Hamburgers, I better go. Mom's saying it's time for dinner and I don't want to get grounded for being late to a meal. Write back soon!  
>Your best friend,<br>Butters

* * *

><p>author's note: i don't know if the hydrogen wedgie is a real thing.<p> 


	5. Kyle

author's note: sorry i haven't updated this in a while. i'm trying really hard to find a job, work on this, work on writing a tv pilot _and_ take care of my dog who's old and sick and i'm doing good to not completely lose my head right now. but anyway, just for clarification, these chapters make up one whole story. it's probably messy at the moment but i'm going to tie all the loose ends together. eventually. because i hate when i get into reading a fic and i realize it's only halfway done and the last time they updated was in like 2007 and i'm like ;_; I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS. but yeah. if you haven't skipped over this part yet then you get a gold star and you move to the head of the class. okay i'm done.  
>oh, wait, i lied, i'm not done.<br>this is kyle's chapter. this is supposed to be a blog post but it probably looks like a bunch of mumbo jumbo. i wish we could use bullet points in these things.  
>i do not own south park.<br>or tumblr. (david karp does.)  
>or the cthulhu mythos.<p>

* * *

><p>I'm putting this under a read more because this is a really long post about how fucked up my night was and you don't have to read my bitching unless you absolutely want to.<p>

Read More

* * *

><p>I lied. There are no fucked up nights, only fucked up moments. Because tonight would have been fun if it weren't for a few things. And to my knowledge, Cartman was not involved in any of these moments, which is... probably the weirdest thing about tonight.<br>I guess for this to all make sense I have to start at the beginning and work my way to... now:

-Red came over  
>-Mom took pictures of all of us like she does every Halloween<br>-Ike and I made fun of each other's costumes (I was Batman, he was… either _actually_ Richard Nixon or one of the robbers from _Point Break_ but my point is he had on one of those masks and that's all I know)  
>-my parents went to drop Ike off at Fillmore's for the night then were going to Mr. Mackey's party so she left Red and I here to wait for Stan and Wendy<br>-It was kind of weird because nine times out of ten I'm the designated driver. But the last time I drove everyone home Stan puked all over my passenger-side window thinking it was rolled down. Long story short, he insisted on driving because he's sworn off drinking until after the playoffs. And, you know, I thought he wasn't being serious until Tuesday, when he wouldn't even drink a glass of champagne at study group/Wendy's sort-of-surprise birthday get-together.  
>-But anyway<br>-um  
>-stuff happened that I probably shouldn't talk about on the internet<br>-ahem…  
>-they got here<br>-Stan was V from _V for Vendetta_ and Wendy was Princess Leia  
>-I could tell Stan thought of it at the last minute because the only time he's ever worn that mask was the week he and I joined Anonymous and somehow the Westboro Baptist Church held our school hostage… it's a long story.<br>-Wendy couldn't do the bun thing with her hair so she had little nubby pigtails and I kept making jokes like "you could have gotten some cinnamon rolls at the 7-11 and stuck them up there" until Red got kind of mad  
>-The good thing about Wendy being there is that she's friends with Red and Red spent the entire way over talking to her.<br>-Stan told me about Cartman trying to start a fight with some gang members after the football game last night  
>-He thinks he might be on steroids and I honestly wouldn't put it past him with all his "BEEFCAKE" bullshit<br>-Red was hungry so Stan begrudgingly went through the drive thru at Emperor Burger  
>-The lady at the window freaked out when he rolled up in his Guy Fawkes mask and that was pretty funny<br>-Then Red complained about the music that was on and I seriously thought Stan was going to have an aneurysm  
>-It took us ages to find a parking spot at Token's so Stan told us to go on without him<br>-Wendy got a text from Bebe to meet her somewhere so she ran off  
>-On the way in the house Red said she thinks Stan's in love with me<br>-And then she got really mad when I laughed at her and told me she was being serious  
>-Jesus Christ, woman.<br>-(I'll get to how I know he doesn't have romantic feelings for me later.)  
>-Hey, Stan, if you're reading this, like this post and I'll call you from my house phone; Red went through my phone again and started bitching at me for texting you more than I do her. She has this insane logic that even though we spend all this time together, I'm supposed to text her more than my own best friend who I don't really see that much outside of school anymore.<br>-Someone let Kenny (or someone else in a Mysterion costume?) near the stereo so he proclaimed himself DJ until the band finished setting up  
>-Wait, it had to be Kenny because I saw him dancing with Millie and according to Red, Millie's been in love with him since he rescued her from Basatan and the Crab People<br>-So it was pretty much only Daft Punk and 90s hip-hop on the speakers for a while  
>-Also lots of alcohol. (But not on the speakers. That would have caused a fire.)<br>-A majority of the girls were, um, very scantily clad  
>-A bunch of them were different Lady Gagas<br>-I got into an argument with Red because I was "looking at other girls"  
>-Okay.<br>-I told her "most of them were pretty much in their underwear, and don't try to tell me you don't look when other guys take their shirts off because I've seen you do it. And it doesn't bother me because a.) I know you'd never do anything with them, and b.) I'm not the one with a rolling fucking avalanche of trust issues."  
>-(and even if they did, I'd kick their ass. Or something.)<br>-So obviously she got really pissed and stormed off  
>-When shit like this happens (and it happens more often than I'd like it to) I find it best to just wait until she realizes how crazy she's being and comes back apologizing.<br>-so I wandered around for a while looking for Stan since my phone was flickering between one bar and none  
>-I took a shot of… I have no earthly idea what it was but it was <em>disgusting<br>_-I saw Cartman in his Hitler costume dancing with Powder (who was… a crack whore? Idk I thought the whole concept of costumes is to dress up as someone other than yourself) and ran in the opposite direction  
>-I accidentally bumped into who I thought was someone in normal clothes until they spoke and I realized it was that Goth kid with the curly hair<br>-I asked him who he was supposed to be  
>-"a conformist," he said.<br>-Then I saw Bebe walking towards me  
>-She was Catwoman.<br>-CATWOMAN.  
>-I had to pull her over to the side and ask her what in the hell she's doing but I didn't get an answer because (of course) then was the time Red came back accompanied by Wendy<br>-and (of course) when she saw who I was talking to, Red insinuated that I was cheating and I asked her why she's acting so crazy which was apparently the wrong thing to say  
>-and that was then Wendy went on a tirade about how calling someone crazy is ableist and how I'm being misogynistic.<br>-I am absolutely certain Red had had something to drink between storming off and coming back because she went and called Bebe a whore  
>-Not the right thing to say in front of Wendy "FEMINISM" Testaburger because she screamed at her for being a "slut-shamer" and went off in a huff<br>-MY NAME IS KYLE BROFLOVSKI AND I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WOMEN.  
>-Anyway<br>-At that point the band finished setting up  
>-Have I talked about the band on here? Oh well, If I have I'm talking about it again.<br>-Craig And Those Guys is kind of a misnomer. I mean, yeah, Craig writes all the lyrics and decides which songs they cover (and they mostly do covers), but Clyde sings. I don't know why, though. He isn't _bad,_ per se… he's just… not that good. Everything else is okay. (Jesus Christ, I hope none of them have a blog. And now that I've said that, watch Craig spend more time on Tumblr than I do. I mean, honestly, the only reason I had even heard of Animal Collective before I joined this site was because he's Red's cousin and he introduces her to a plethora of music which she, in turn, introduces to me.)  
>-They did (in my opinion) a decent cover of Halloween by the Dead Kennedys. By "decent" I mean in this version you could actually sort of understand the lyrics.<br>-And before I forget, I have to give props to their costumes. Seeing Clyde getting really into the music as a zombie football player was hilarious. And Craig's astronaut suit… I wish I had taken a picture.  
>-AND TOKEN WAS PAUL MCBLACKNEY. He should wear that outfit everyday so when I see him in APUSH I can ask "Hey, Sgt. Token… where's your lonely hearts club band?"<br>-Okay, not everyday. Just once so I can actually make that joke.  
>-Now that I think of it, Tweek didn't dress up as anything. Hm.<br>-The crowd was starting to dwindle during the first song, but what can I say? It's South Park, not CBGB.  
>-And then in the middle of their rendition of some Wavves song (I couldn't tell which one; all Wavves songs sound the same to me) I heard a voice ring out from behind me.<br>-"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY SKA!"  
>-I turned around, thinking <em>please let that be Butters or someone who isn't who I think it is.<em>  
>-Well, I got my wish. It wasn't a drunken Stan.<br>-It was a drunken Ike.  
>-I don't know why I didn't see this coming. I mean, he's right at that age where everyone's all like "high school parties!" and Fillmore lives two blocks away from Token's. TWO BLOCKS. Hell, my mom even tried to get me to drop him off before she found out I wasn't driving.<br>-But he _knows_ better than to crash the same party your own brother's at.  
>-Or, you know, at least I thought he knew.<br>-I never should have made him watch Mission Hill.  
>-So, as any responsible older brother should do, I dragged him with me as I tried to look for someone, <em>anyone<em> sober enough to take us home.  
>-I saw Butters wandering around with a cowboy hat on, but I know he probably walked there so I didn't bother asking.<br>-Jimmy was off to the side telling jokes to some of the football team (Jesus, I could hear Bill and Fosse's laughter over the music)  
>-I glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of Cartman helping... Wendy up the patio stairs? It didn't register in my head until now because I was focusing on getting Ike out of there, but strike what I said earlier. THAT was the weirdest thing I have seen in my entire <em>life.<br>_-Well, minus all the weird shit that goes on in this town on a daily basis. But honestly, after the fifth species of aliens you meet, you get kind of used to it._  
><em>-We went upstairs only to accidentally walk in on Stan... right at the end of... doing things... of the carnal persuasion... with a member of the opposite sex (who I will not name, in case people from school find this)  
>-And of course Ike had to say something stupid before I could close the door and forget the previous three seconds of my life.<br>-...And then Stan threw up.  
>-He hadn't even been drinking. It just... happened. Equal parts shock and embarrassment, I guess.<br>-The Girl Who Shall Not Be Named On This Blog got disgusted and fled the scene as soon as she put her costume back on  
>-The immediate conversation went like this:<br>-Stan: What the fuck, dude?  
>-Ike: We... We're cockblocks (I think that's what he said? I dunno, he was babbling like a toddler)<br>-Stan: Shut up, Ike. (pauses to think) Wait. (looks at me, then at Ike, then back to me) How... Oh my God.  
>-Me: Yeah.<br>-Stan: I'll find my cape.  
>-I know he wanted to get Wendy and Red too, but I had no idea when my parents were coming back, so the sooner we got home the better. I texted Red about the situation at hand, threw in an apology and told her Stan would be back in about half an hour if she wanted to leave then. He wasn't happy, but he agreed to do it.<br>-And I let Ike hear it in the car on the way back. He probably won't remember, but he started crying because I yelled at him so loud, which in turn made me feel like a douchebag. But really, he's lucky I found him before (God forbid) something bad happened to him and he ended up waking up on the side of the road covered in flour and egg and sharpie. I just... Dude. The shit I've seen. I don't want that happening to Ike until he's actually in high school.  
>-We were halfway to the house when I smelled it. Something just... I thought it was the sewer at first. I asked Stan to roll down the window. then:<br>-"I pooped my pants."  
>-We were almost killed because Stan thought it was a great time to slam the breaks and scream "WHAT?"<br>-Red texted me back saying "dont fuvking botthre" about the ride, but there is no way in Hell I'm stranding my own girlfriend at a party with a bunch of people who probably can't drive home until the wee hours of the morning. And I know her dad, dude. He don't take kindly to those types around here.  
>-So, yeah. We (obviously) made it out alive. Ike has passed out in his room. I've done enough for him tonight so he can clean his own goddamn pants in the morning. I already had to scrub Stan's backseat with Chipotlaway before he went back to the party. I think after I call Stan I'm going to try to go to sleep and hopefully my parents will never find out about any of this. Ever.<br>-Oh, wait, someone's calling me. Someone whose number I don't know. If it's important they'll leave a voicemail. Goodnight.

* * *

><p>who's calling kyle?<br>why was cartman helping wendy?  
>will butters ever be relevant to the plot?<br>find out in the next installment of... yeah, okay, i'm already bored with this _soap_ reference.  
>reviews are nice.<p> 


	6. Bebe

author's note: i know this is really short, but despite its (lack of) length i think it has a lot of information in it. the next chapter's going to be a whopper, though.

also, this is supposed to be if someone tapped into the phone lines.

i do not own south park. or manischewitz. (and i don't really want to own it; it tastes like vinegar.)

* * *

><p><strong>Answering Machine<strong>:_ Hey, this is Kyle. I'm killing zombies right now, so leave a message after the beep. Except for you, Cartman._

[_BEEP_]

**Bebe**: HEY… That-that's still your message? Wow… What has it been, like, a year?  
>But anyway, I called to tell you how fucking awesome you are. Really. You are so goddamn fucking awesome, you know? Y-you-you are just… unbelievable. I… whoa, I almost fell. [<em>laughs<em>]  
>I hate you. I hate your stupid fucking hat. And that way you just… act like you know <em>everything<em>.  
>Guess what, buddy? Nobody does, so quit trying to fucking fool everyone! A-and quit trying to make yourself believe that you love Red! NEWS FLASH, DOUCHEBAG. IT'S HIGH SCHOOL. The only thing you love about her is her pussy!<br>And you know what? She probably told you she was a virgin, right?  
>NOPE!<br>Kevin.  
>Yeah, that's right. She fucked a guy who still wears Star Wars onesies! Granted, it was a couple of months before you two started dating, but he was fucking heartbroken about it.<br>...Wow, that story sounds _so_ familiar!  
>[<em>pause<em>]  
>You know what? Fuck it. I'm tired of acting like it never happened. Because it did. And I'm tired of having to be nice to you because you're dating one of my best friends. I mean, you're smart, right? Did it ever occur that <em>I<em> might have loved you? And when you came up to me at Ike's bar mitzvah saying you had a bottle of Manischewitz in your room with our names on it, did you ever stop to think "hey, this chick's liked you since elementary school and _might_ be a little crushed if you don't ask her out after you pop her cherry"? Well, you, sir, are an asshole!  
>[<em>long pause<em>]  
>[<em>voice breaking<em>] And I hate you. I can't fucking stress that part enough.  
>[<em>bursts into tears, cries for a little bit, then composes herself<em>]  
>I hate that as much as I try to erase it, I still fucking remember. And from the bottom of my fucking liver, I say thank you. Yes. Thank you <em>so<em> much for making Bebe Stevens your choice in quality deflowering services. Come again sometime! [_presses 3 instead of the 'end' button_]

**Female voice**: Message deleted.

**Bebe**: SHIT!

**Female voice**: To re-record your message, press 1.

**Bebe**: [_annoyed sigh_]  
>[<em>makes sure to press 1 this time; after the beep<em>]  
>Uh... hi. It's Bebe. I-I'm not gonna lie to you, I just left, like, a really long message screaming at you about… things. I think you know which things I'm talking about, but that conversation is for a later time because think I just went from being "pretty damn drunk" to "just plain drunk," Like, you know, there's a certain point when you're drunk that you bring up shit you wouldn't if you had just stuck to the amount you normally go with?<br>Yeah. That was... that was then.  
>But really, I just pressed the wrong button and it erased. So good news for you, I guess, because I'm too emotionally drained to go through it again. [<em>nervous laugh<em>]  
>Hey, did you happen to see Wendy after she stormed off? Cause I've texted her like five times and she hasn't answered any of them. And then Stan called because he was back at the party trying to find her, and I'm a little worried.<br>So if you have seen her and you're still awake, please call me back. Thanks. Bye. [_hangs up_]


	7. Wendy Part Two

author's note: this was such a fun chapter to write. if cartman and wendy had one scene in every episode where they argued or interacted in any way i would be _sooooo_ happy. i don't know if i mentioned this before but this fic was originally going to just be wendy's journal until i had the idea to do different characters. but yeah.  
>i do not own south park. or any of the stuff mentioned below.<p>

* * *

><p>Sunday, November 1st.<p>

Is this what it feels like to hate yourself?  
>Actually, I think I've been straddling this line for quite some time; I just never really gave it much thought until today.<p>

I don't remember a good portion of last night. I definitely don't remember how I got from Token's to… where I woke up.

I do remember the ride to the party. I remember Kyle making fun of my pigtails and Stan getting really tense every time Red complained about something. I think I remember everything up to playing Quarters in the kitchen with Bebe, and then everything I remember after seems like I dreamed it.  
>I think Red came in complaining about Kyle? (Yeah, that seems plausible. How else would she leave him alone at a party with a bunch of girls in skimpy costumes to find her friends? Seriously, that's all she talks about now. Kyle this, Kyle that. If men become the center of your life, they win.)<br>…Wait, Bebe said she had to use the bathroom so… I played more Quarters with Red.  
>Oh, dear.<br>I vaguely remember yelling at someone, although I don't remember who or what. And… I went outside? Why in the hell would I do that? It got down to 8 last night.  
>I think I… fell… well, obviously I fell, but I don't remember my ankle hurting at the time.<br>I remember… Bowie…? I don't know where I was at that point but I think I sang along.  
>And that's all I remember until this morning.<p>

I don't know which woke me first: the smell of bacon, the screeching of a cat, or the dull pain coming from my ankle. I lifted the Terrance and Philip blanket to see that despite its bandages and (almost melted) icepack, it was still swollen to the point of immobility.  
>I then glanced around the room. Yellow walls. A Sunday morning televangelism program on the flat screen TV. Wait… was I-<br>"Good morning."  
>I heard the voice just as my eyes landed on the picture of a 7-year-old red blob and a thirty-something brunette standing in front of Mount Rushmore. I turned my head to spot a visibly older Liane Cartman walking towards me with a breakfast tray. When I say it took everything within me to not outwardly freak out, I mean I'm pretty sure I was violently shaking for a minute there.<br>"Uh, hi."  
>"Eric isn't up yet, so I fixed yours first." she gently placed the tray on my lap.<br>Even if I didn't feel like spewing the contents of my stomach, I couldn't have eaten it. The only thing that wasn't made with some sort of animal product was the orange juice, and I'm 99% sure if Eric Cartman had something organically made in his house, he'd yell obscenities at his mom until she threw it out.  
>"I appreciate this, really, I do, but… I don't think I can eat anything right now."<br>"Okay, hon," she said as she took the tray again and placed it back in the kitchen. "I put a bucket next to the couch in case you need to throw up."  
>"Thank you, Mrs. Cartman."<br>"You're welcome, sweetie." She started heading up the staircase, ever so slightly raising her pleasant, singsong-y voice. "Eric! Breakfast is ready!"

_Wait until you're home, Testaburger_, I kept telling myself. _You can have as many panic attacks as you want when you're in the safety of your own-_

"'Sup, hippie?"  
>I've never been more thankful for a puke bucket (or the lady who spawned the one person I truly hate) in my entire life because everything just… came up all at once.<br>"Can I give you a piece of advice?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Do what your boyfriend Marsh does and try to go easy on the Jameson, ho."  
>I lifted my head back up to look at him. "1.) he is not my boyfriend. Yes, it's kind of obvious he still likes me, but I'm too busy trying to get into a respectable East Coast school-"<br>"And caving into peer pressure, Drunkey McVomitson."  
>I rolled my eyes and continued. "2.) It was not Jameson. It was Absolut. At least I-I..." I threw up again.<br>"...Don't know how to handle your vodka?" I shot him a death glare. He chuckled. "Just stating my observations, ho."  
>Screw being nice to him. Of course he misinterpreted it and brought me here so he could at least, like, have an excuse to feel me up and then post it on Facebook for everyone to see. Or something. Whatever, that makes sense. Fuck you.<br>"Good to know you're observing something other than the $5.99 lunch buffet."  
>"AY!" the look on his face suddenly changed from amusement to downright outrage. "You know what? The next time I see you at a party completely shitfaced and about to fall in an Olympic-sized swimming pool, you can just... drown for all I care!"<br>"Maybe I will!" In retrospect, not my best argument. Is it acceptable to blame it on the hangover? "In fact, I'll drag you the fuck with me!"  
>"I'd love to see you try!" He started heading towards the staircase. "Screw you, bitch, I'm going h-" he paused, realizing he was already there, "to my room!"<br>"Don't fall through the stairs! No, wait, _do_, so I never have to see your fat face again!"  
>"FUCK YOU!" I heard coming from the second floor.<br>"I'd rather kill myself!"  
>"GOOD, I'D NEVER HAVE TO HEAR YOUR STUPID ANNOYING BANSHEE VOICE AGAIN!"<br>"FINE!"  
>"FINE!"<br>"FINE!"  
>"FINE!" I heard the faint sound of a door slamming shut.<br>I took turns vomiting and trying to analyze the situation for a few minutes. The televangelist was discussing something from the book of Revelation. The only thing I came up with in between pukes is "find your phone and get the fuck out of here" before I heard what sounded like a stampede coming from the stairs. I just sat there staring at Cartman as he stomped to the kitchen and shortly returned with a handful of bacon. He caught sight of me and shouted, "I FORGOT ABOUT BREAKFAST!"  
>"FIRST TIME THAT'S EVER HAPPENED, HUH?"<br>"DON'T YOU HAVE SOME WALL STREET TO OCCUPY, HIPPIE? OH, WAIT, THAT'S RIGHT, I SAVED YOUR LIFE AND YOU'RE TOO BUSY BITCHING ABOUT THAT!" At this point he was standing a couple inches from the couch, looking down at me while I stared back.  
>He has really nice eyes, actually. They're mostly this light shade of amber but there's like a little fleck of green in both of them.<br>Wait. Did I seriously just write that?  
>Who <em>am<em> I?  
>"WHY ARE WE STILL SHOUTING?"<br>"BECAUSE I'M STILL ANGRY!"  
>"CAN WE ARGUE AT A REASONABLE VOLUME?" My voice was starting to go hoarse. I took a deep breath. "What did you do with my-"<br>"Here." He pulled the phone out of his pajama pocket and threw it at me as he finished the bacon. "And before you start asking me if I did anything to it, I didn't." He walked over to the coat rack next to the door and put on his letterman jacket, then added as he put on and laced up his Timberlands, "I thought about it, though. Decided it wasn't worth spending the rest of my night trying to figure out your passcode or googling some way to get around it."  
>Thank God for the lock feature.<br>He then, to my shock, attempted to pick me up.  
>"What the fuck are you doing?"<br>"The fuck does it look like I'm doing? Carrying you to the car. Or trying to, at least."  
>"So just because I'm a woman, that automatically makes me not strong enough to walk to the car on my own?"<br>"No, bitch. Your ankle's doing that job," he said as he took advantage of me checking all the text messages I missed and successfully lifted me off of the couch. "Jeez, why does your Feminism Spidey Sense kick in at all the wrong times?"  
>"Put me down, you asshole!"<br>"What, right here?" We were already to the door frame. "Okay."  
>He nearly dropped me. I let out a short scream.<br>"That wasn't what I meant!"  
>"Relax, ho, I wasn't going to actually do that," he said, laughing. "You should have seen the look on your face..."<p>

We made our way across the yard to Cartman's dark blue Chevy Nova. He had a Hummer at one point but he ended up wrecking it sometime last year. _Of course_ he came out unscathed while the people in the car he rammed into died upon impact. And _of course_ he resurrected Johnny Cochran from the dead to represent him in court. And _of course_ he was found not guilty. Because he's Eric fucking Cartman, that's how.  
>"If the car don't stop, don't bring out the mop."<br>Whatever.

I had eleven text messages. The most recent two were from Mom saying that Bebe called her and everyone's worried about me. Six were from Bebe herself talking about Stan leaving and... something about her sleeping with Kyle? Holy SHIT. I'm going to text her after my phone finishes charging. Two were from Stan talking about taking Kyle and Ike home because Ike crashed the party. And the final one was from Kenny, asking if I could "hold his lightsaber." I replied to all of them with "Don't worry, I'm fine. On the way home now." Except Kenny, who received "Text me again and I'm reporting you for sexual harassment."

Something occurred to me as we passed Tom's Rhinoplasty.  
>"You didn't call it a night with Powder Cokenstein?"<br>He slammed the brakes. "She's Jewish?"  
>"Oh my God, are you fucking serious?" I muttered as the guy in the car behind us yelled, "Watch what you're doing, asshole!"<br>"FUCK YOU, DIPSH-" Cartman retorted, craning his neck out of the window. "Oh, shit, that's Mr. Garrison." He sped back up. "But in answer to your question, yes. I am fucking seriously."  
>"You've known her since first grade. Her last name is Turner. I mean, she's cousins with Heidi, for Christ's sake-"<br>"You never know. I mean, Testaburger's a Jewish name, right?"  
>"Not really. It's Dutch."<br>"That doesn't rule out possible Jewish origin."  
>"I'm not going to debate last name etymology with you, Cartman." My head was pounding and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid smug smirk off his face. "Even if I was, what are you going to do? Terrorize me like you do Kyle? Oh, wait! You already do that!"<br>"I could be playing God of War 4 right now, you know!" I guess I got what I wanted. "Or sleeping, or writing that paper due tomorrow, or a billion other things besides taking Wendy 'goddamn fucking hippie slut who can't comprehend the fact that sometimes I can do nice things for people' Testaburger home!"  
>I didn't know what to say. But at that moment I got a text back from my mom about how glad she was that I'm alive, so that gave me a little time to think. I just went with the first question that popped in my head:<br>"What do you want?"  
>It was completely obvious Cartman had been planning his answer to the question before I even asked it. "What... Whatever are you talking about, Wendy?"<br>I snorted. "Since when in the hell have we been on a first-name basis?"  
>"Really, though, I have no idea what you are saying."<br>"Okay. You do all this shit for me and you don't want anything out of it. That makes total sense."  
>He sighed and paused for obvious dramatic effect. "I'm failing history."<br>"What?" No. Cartman's a dick who disrupts class on a regular basis, but he isn't stupid. Especially when it comes to history. (Except, you know, the whole Holocaust thing) "You are not!"  
>"Yes, I am!" He looked genuinely sincere, for once. It was, for lack of a better word, terrifying. "If I don't get a C on this paper, I can't play for the rest of the season."<br>And there it was. "If you think I'm writing the paper for you then you can-"  
>"What else am I supposed to do?"<br>"Oh, I don't know. Buy some Adderall from Tweek, lock yourself in your room with your textbook and rattle it out like everyone else does?" Except for me. I've been working on it in small increments since it was assigned two weeks ago.  
>"But I suck ass at writing papers!"<br>"How, though?" This is where the 'hating myself' part comes in. "As much as I don't want to admit this, (and this is _not_ an admission of you being right), you're a better orator than me."  
>He looked dumbfounded. "Wh-what was that?"<br>"That means you're a better speech-giver."  
>"I know what 'orator' means, hippie!" he smirked, then burst into a round of "Heh-heh-heh-heh-<em>heh<em>-heh, I'm better than our class president at _talk_ing-"  
>"Do you want my help or not?"<br>Well, that sure shut him up.  
>I can't believe I gave him this advice. "My point is, if you can talk well, you can write well. Read up on the subject, record yourself giving a speech on it and paraphrase what you said. I mean, maybe you're an audiovisual learner-"<br>"Huh. Wow." I could see the gears turning in his head. "Uh... thanks."  
>We passed the next few blocks in a somewhat awkward silence before he made the left turn onto my street.<br>"So, um, if I have any questions, do I Facebook you, or-"  
>"I-I'll give you my number." WHY DID YOU DO THIS? WHY? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?<br>The brakes squealed as he parked in the street in front of my house. How he knew which one was mine, I do not know. Nor do I want to know.  
>He pulled out his phone.<br>"303 or 719?" he asked.  
>"303."<br>I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself

* * *

><p>My parents, thankfully, were more relieved that I came home in one piece than angry at me for staying out all night and twisting my ankle. They don't make it a secret that they think I should act more like a normal teenager, so they didn't ground me.<p>

It turns out I can walk, but it still kind of hurts when I do. Hopefully it'll feel better after I take a nap and eat something. But before that, I'm going to go ask Bebe what the hell she meant when she said she slept with Kyle. Seriously, I'm just perplexed as to how she could have when… you know… Red.

And Cartman told me what happened to Sally.  
>"She just went to the bathroom and never came back. Maybe she OD'd. I dunno. Whatever. Fuck that bitch."<br>Why am I helping him, again?


	8. Clyde

author's note: i'm really surprising myself with how frequently i'm updating. usually i have to have a deadline or else i'll slack off.  
>i have a confession to make. i am not really <em>that<em> much of a slash fan. whoops. but maybe this chapter will make up for the lack of gays in this so far. (or gay. there's only one for now.) (and a half. don't forget kenny.)

i do not own south park. or AIM. or iChat. or facebook.

* * *

><p>craig fucker is available - 7:04PM<br>craig fucker: if surfer rosa were a person and not an album i'd marry it in a heartbeat regardless of gender or orientation  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I don't think we can do practice tonight dude.<br>craig fucker: why the hell not  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Well for one there's that Geometry test tomorrow<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: and then there's the fact that Tweek is currently passed out on my couch.  
>craig fucker: wtf<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: I know right?  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Maybe this cutting out caffeine altogether thing isn't such a good idea.<br>craig fucker: whatever would make you say that  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Oh shut up.<br>craig fucker: where's token  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Eating dinner I think.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: He told me at football he's pretty sure his parents know there was a party but they don't have any substantial evidence to go on.  
>craig fucker: there'd better not be<br>craig fucker: i spent two fucking hours scrubbing that pile of puke in the guest room alone  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: You know I would have been there to help if my mom didn't call Token's phone wondering where I was.<br>craig fucker: which is yet another reason why you need a cell phone  
>craig fucker: also so i don't have to get on fucking iChat to talk to you<br>craig fucker: what are we 12  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Well if you didn't hate Facebook Chat so much then we wouldn't be having this problem now would we?<br>craig fucker: they changed it again and it sucks ass  
>craig fucker: it was okay with the picture thing but how it has people's names again and it's ugly<br>craig fucker: now*  
>craig fucker: and every time i go on there people i hate try to talk to me about their stupid lives<br>craig fucker: you'd think the multiple statuses i've posted about not giving a fuck would have tipped them off  
>craig fucker: but no<br>craig fucker: get a phone  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I don't trust cell phone companies. Not since Tweek made me watch that documentary on The Patriot Act.<br>craig fucker: you actually believed that shit  
>craig fucker: everyone knows michael moore was a robot built by the ACLU to make people feel guilty for being alive so they could harvest their organs once they committed suicide<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Duh.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I know like 75% of what he said was a bunch of liberal propaganda<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: (and don't get me wrong, I'm a Democrat and all)  
>craig fucker: political parties are fucking stupid<br>craig fucker: you can't even vote yet  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Shut up I'm making a point<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: But he brought up a ton of valid points about the cell phone industry.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: And if I recall correctly he was your personal hero before Stan and them got involved in that first amendment lawsuit.<br>craig fucker: that was a long time ago  
>craig fucker: i gave up on filmmaking for an entirely different reason though<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: No you didn't.  
>craig fucker: yes i did<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: No you didn't.  
>craig fucker: yes i did<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: No you didn't.  
>craig fucker: yes i fucking did you asshole can you shut the fuck up<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: I can keep doing this all night dude. No you didn't.  
>craig fucker: don't try to tell me what i think<br>craig fucker: yes i did  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Okay, suppose you did have a good reason. What is it?<br>craig fucker: clyde i'm warning you now it sounds really gay  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Coming from you? Never.<br>craig fucker: shut it douchenozzle  
>craig fucker: i got into documentaries because a good portion of them are hardhitting accounts of things people need to hear that the news doesn't extensively cover<br>craig fucker: or at least that's what i thought  
>craig fucker: middle school was a confusing time for everyone okay<br>craig fucker: then my aunt liz took me to see the crucible at DCPA and i realized theatre can be just as hardhitting even if it's only allegorical and/or satirical  
>craig fucker: if not more hardhitting<br>craig fucker: and even if they're supposed to be "real" documentaries sometimes require multiple takes and a bunch of editing  
>craig fucker: if an actor fucks up onstage you can't fix it<br>craig fucker: therefore it is much more brutal  
>craig fucker: and at the risk of sounding like the biggest glittering sparkling queer in all of colorado<br>craig fucker: when you see a really good play it's kind of like magic  
>craig fucker: and i want people to walk out of my plays feeling the same way i do when i walk out of one<br>craig fucker: okay i'm finished  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: …Are you high?<br>craig fucker: i'm pretty baked ngl  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Of course.<p>

* * *

><p>Token S Black is away - 7:37 PM<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: No practice tonight.  
>Auto Message from Token S Black: I am away from my computer right now.<p>

* * *

><p>ClydeHeartsTacos: No practice then I guess right?<br>craig fucker: fine  
>craig fucker: you can go finish your stupid whatever it is you're doing<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Contrary to popular belief homework isn't stupid.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: If I'm not the fourth generation of my dad's family to go to CU I might as well be disowned.<br>craig fucker: he isn't even your real dad  
>craig fucker: and i love how you jumped straight to the word disowned<br>craig fucker: L O fucking L  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Dude it is not my fault your dad's family is the only outspoken homophobes left in this town.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Except Cartman but I already know your theory on that.  
>craig fucker: are*<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Whatever.  
>craig fucker: except red<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Well obviously.  
>craig fucker: i guess she's the only person i'm related to who i can stand to be around for more than ten minutes at a time<br>craig fucker: but  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Ruby isn't so bad.<br>craig fucker: she has her moments but then again you don't live with her  
>craig fucker: "craig drive me to the mall"<br>craig fucker: "craig lend me ten bucks for a movie"  
>craig fucker: "craig get out of the bathroom i have to period everywhere"<br>craig fucker: wow i wonder why i like guys  
>craig fucker: but honestly red's sanity has fucking deteriorated since she started dating broflovski<br>craig fucker: i know kevin was a dick to her and all  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Kevin just really sucks with people.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: He isn't as much of a dick as everyone thinks he is.  
>craig fucker: always the optimist<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Maybe I am.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I was just raised to give people the benefit of the doubt before I label them an asshole.<br>craig fucker: whoop de fucking do  
>craig fucker: what i was saying was<br>craig fucker: i know he was a dick to her but that isn't a valid reason to not trust broflovski  
>craig fucker: there are other reasons<br>craig fucker: one of them being he's a snitch  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: That was ONE time.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: We were 11 and cheating off his paper.  
>craig fucker: once a snitch always a snitch<p>

* * *

><p>Token S Black: Oh cool<br>Token S Black: cause I'm grounded  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: WHAT<br>Token S Black: Mrs. Broflovski called  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: safkjkfslskdfj<p>

* * *

><p>ClydeHeartsTacos: DUDE<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: HAS TOKEN IMED YOU YET  
>craig fucker: no<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Do it.  
>craig fucker: why<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Just do it okay?

* * *

><p>ClydeHeartsTacos: Tweek's kind of knocked out on my couch so I can't tell him the news<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: but I imagine if he were awake he'd be acting like I'm acting now.  
>Token S Black: Hold on Craig just IMed me<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: K.

* * *

><p>craig fucker: I JUST TOLD YOU<br>craig fucker: SNITCH  
>craig fucker: TOTAL SNITCH<br>craig fucker: WE ARE SO DEAD  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: So dead.<br>craig fucker: goodbye band  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Goodbye social life. It was nice while it lasted.<br>craig fucker: goodbye coachella  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Goodbye Comic Con.<br>craig fucker: goodbye chance of moving out of this state and finding a guy i'm attracted to in person  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Goodbye getting Bebe to notice me again.<br>craig fucker: dude  
>craig fucker: not happening<br>craig fucker: ever  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: A guy can dream can't he?<p>

* * *

><p>ClydeHeartsTacos: When are they telling our parents?<br>Token S Black: They're not  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Huh?<br>Token S Black: I told you they were at this fundraiser in Denver for the weekend right  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Yeah.<br>Token S Black: Kyle's mom called them Saturday night asking if Kyle was doing okay because she couldn't get through to him  
>Token S Black: Therefore they assumed that all the parents knew there was a party happening<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Oh my God I have never loved your parents more than I do now.

* * *

><p>ClydeHeartsTacos: At first I was crying out of sadness but now it's out of joy.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: They think all the parents know.  
>craig fucker: i know<br>craig fucker: i was just fucking with you  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: FUCK YOU<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT ANYMORE.  
>craig fucker: but it's too funny not to<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: You know what?  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I'm gonna go check on our bro going through a severe caffeine withdrawal like a good decent friend does.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Then I'm going to finish my Geometry homework like a good decent student does.  
>craig fucker: is this some faggy way of trying to make me feel inferior<br>craig fucker: cause it isn't working  
>craig fucker: fucks given: 0<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Fuck off dickweed.

* * *

><p>ClydeHeartsTacos: Craig's being a dick.<br>Token S Black: And this is surprising?  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I'm just saying maybe it's time to tell him.<br>Token S Black: We can't yet  
>Token S Black: You know how he gets<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: If not now when?  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: And who gives a fuck if the band isn't called Clyde and Those Guys?<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: We have a right to voice our opinions just as much as he does.  
>Token S Black: Damn dude<br>Token S Black: Have you been drinking that coffee we confiscated  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: A little.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Caramel macchiatos are amazing btw.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Have you done the Geometry review yet?<br>Token S Black: Yeah  
>Token S Black: It's actually not that hard<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: But proofs are WEIRD.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: I have a hard enough time with math.<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Why do we have to write shit out?  
>Token S Black: You could always go to our study group tomorrow<br>Token S Black: Oh wait  
>Token S Black: I'm grounded<br>Token S Black: Shit  
>Token S Black: Brb asking my parents<p>

* * *

><p>Clyde: Hey.<p>

Wendy: Hi, Clyde.

Clyde: Has Token texted you or anything?

Wendy: Um... no?

Clyde: His parents just grounded him so he  
>doesn't know if he'll be able to do study<br>group tomorrow.

Wendy: Oh. Well, I guess that explains  
>why.<p>

Clyde: I don't have a phone so I'm not  
>sure if that's part of his punishment or not.<br>Usually my parents just take away my car  
>and tell me I can't hang out with anyone.<br>Anyway.  
>I'm having a tough time in Geometry and I<br>was wondering if it was cool if I came  
>tomorrow.<p>

Wendy: Of course you can.  
>This might sound a bit forward, but if Token<br>can't do it, would you be interested in letting  
>us use your house?<br>It's totally okay if you can't.  
>We'd do it at mine but my mom works late<br>and she'd probably complain about the cars  
>blocking the driveway.<br>And also my dad works from home and he'd  
>probably come in and ask a billion questions.<p>

Clyde: Hold on I'll go ask my mom.

* * *

><p>Token S Black: Are you still there<br>Token S Black: Cause they said no  
>Token S Black: Clyde<br>ClydeHeartsTacos: Sorry dude I was checking on Tweek.  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: We're doing it at my house.<br>Token S Black: What? How?  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Wendy asked me to.<br>Token S Black: They also took my phone  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: She said to go IM her on Facebook.<br>Token S Black: Why aren't _we_ talking on Facebook  
>ClydeHeartsTacos: Good question.<p>

* * *

><p>Clyde: I can do it.<p>

Wendy: Okay, awesome.

Clyde I had one of those brownies you  
>made Cartman at lunch.<br>It was AMAZING.

Wendy: He shared them?  
>Ugh, I should have known.<p>

Clyde: He thought you put arsenic in them.  
>And Kenny was absent so he made me be<br>the guinea pig.

Wendy: I can't believe he did that.  
>That was my apology gift for questioning<br>his motives yesterday.

Clyde: Uh what?

Wendy: Nothing.

Clyde: You brought it up so you have to  
>spill.<p>

Wendy: No, I don't.

Clyde: Yeah you do.

Wendy: I'm not telling you.

Clyde: Why not?

Wendy: Just because I'm a woman, that  
>does not mean I have to tell a man what he<br>wants to hear.

Clyde: Oh come on that isn't even what  
>that's supposed to mean.<p>

Wendy: It can mean anything it wants.

Clyde: You're confusing me.

Wendy: It isn't that hard to do.  
>Goodnight.<p>

Wendy is offline.

* * *

><p>Clyde: Why does Wendy pull the Feminist<br>Card when she doesn't want to talk about  
>something?<p>

Token: Because it works

Clyde: I know you can't host the thing but is  
>there any way you can get your parents to<br>let you come over tomorrow?

Token: Probably not  
>They used the word "indefinitely"<p>

Clyde: Oh shit not indefinitely  
>But I don't know what happens at these<br>things.

Token: I'll take you through it tomorrow at  
>football.<br>How's Tweek?

Clyde: Still asleep.  
>I told his dad we're working on a project<br>together.

Token: Good  
>Go work on your Geometry<br>It's like 9

Clyde: Ugh. Fine.  
>See you at school.<p>

Token: Later

* * *

><p>author's note: i'm still working on the soundtrack. it's not really a "soundtrack" as much as it's a collection of background musicthe music i think different characters listen to. but i'm going to post it when i finish it for good. i don't know when that is yet, but it's going to happen.


	9. Stan Part Two

author's note: i know it isn't really a lot, but i didn't know i'd get this many reviews. or _any_ reviews, actually. so thanks, guys. y'all are awesome.

* * *

><p><span>The Top Ten Weirdest Things That Have Happened In The Last Couple Of Weeks (Good Or Bad):<span>

10. I made an A on the English midterm paper thing.

9. Kyle got a B+ (but his parents put him on total lockdown, which is completely typical of them. Or it would be if Kyle were the type of guy who made Bs all the time).

8. Apparently my dad's moving to the Philippines to bang some chick he met on the internet. The only thing that constitutes as "weird" is that he actually called and told me this.

7. Red's not being an annoying possessive bitch. In fact, last week she came up and apologized to me for how she's acted for the past couple of months. I'm kind of skeptical as to how long this is going to last but I'm enjoying it while I can.

6. We lost Homecoming. And our chance of being in the playoffs. I'm trying not to get depressed over it because we tried our absolute hardest (and Summit has some of the biggest players I've ever seen, Cartman included) but if we had a better PK we could have at least gone into overtime. Better luck next season, I guess.

5. We started having study group over at Clyde's because Token's grounded. Clyde's my teammate and all, but I never really hung out with him much because he's always with Craig and Craig's an asshole. Now that he's joined the group, he's started sitting with us at lunch (he's usually with Craig, Kenny and Cartman at the table near one of the corners but he's fighting with Craig, Kenny's been out a lot lately and Cartman's… I don't really know where he is. Nor do I care.) and I'm really surprised at how cool he is.

4. I don't know that much about it since (like I said before) I don't hang out with Craig, but Tweek's suddenly gone from being one F.B.I. investigation away from a heart attack to the most laid back person ever. The grapevine says Craig's supplying him with all the weed and Xanax he can handle, but the grapevine also said I had an addiction to butt cracks. And sure, I'm more of an ass man than a boob man, but the word "addiction" is taking it too far.

3. Shelly's being… nice? I wish I could document the face I just made. But yeah. Yesterday she didn't call me some variation of the word "turd" and (as the worried brother that I am) I asked her what was wrong. She's going on a date with Kevin. As in Kenny's older brother Kevin (not Star Wars Kevin. Good God, would I love to see how that turned out). As in the guy she's had a giant crush on since middle school but would throw me down the stairs if I ever brought him up. Kyle made a good point when I told him all of this: she isn't as horrifying now that her headgear's off, therefore guys will start to go for her looks and _then_ be scared away by her personality. I just gave her a warning to bring some money because his wallet's probably going to be in his other dirty pair of jeans.

2. I never thought I'd say this, but… I think I'm over Wendy. Or at least in the sense that I found someone to take my mind off of her. I feel kind of bad for breaking the Bro Code though. I know Annie was Kenny's first (and only) serious attempt at a high school relationship, but they only dated for three weeks and he was the one to break it off because she, according to him, "wouldn't put out." (This was the beginning of freshman year. He's since matured.) With that being said, is having sex with her the same night we got to know each other considered ironic? The weirdest thing about all of it was I was sober. (Fun fact: Up until then I had only done it three times. All of them being Drunken Oh God I Can't Remember Anything Did I Really Just Sleep With The Goth Chick Sex.) But yeah. She's really cute and smart and funny and I'm always mentally kicking myself because I act like a giant doofus around her and we're going to Buca de Fagghecini on Friday. (I made sure to ask Shelly where she and Kevin are going and made reservations at a place across town.) And hey, maybe this time I won't throw up. (Not that it was her fault. Kyle walked in on us and it shocked me so I just… I didn't know I could project it that far.)

1. Cartman and Wendy are friends. Like, they're legitimately being nice to each other and not arguing or disrupting APUSH and stuff. That… that's scarier than anything I could ever imagine. I confronted her and she said (and this is a direct quote) "contrary to popular belief, he's actually capable of human emotions" and then went on some psychoanalytical spiel about the affects of bullying or something like that, I dunno. Annie showed up at that point and I kind of tuned her out. So I ended up asking Cartman, who laughed and told me I was jealous. Which I'm not. It just bugs me that two people who have hated each other since pre-school are now… you know, _not_ hating each other. It's pretty much the same feeling I had that month Cartman and Kyle got along. (Well, without me being completely depressed and seeing everything as shit.) I also have the feeling that something's going to happen (like Wendy coming to her senses or Cartman making a rape joke) and their arguments'll be even more explosive and somebody'll end up getting killed. As much as I hope that doesn't happen, it'd make more sense than what's going on now.

* * *

><p>author's note: just a head's up, shit's going down in the next few chapters.<br>we get to see the inner workings of red's mind (there's a good reason why she acts the way she does), how craig can only express his feelings through his scripts, and kenny's visit to an old flame. and maybe some of butters' antics. i dunno. what do you guys want? if anyone has any suggestions or comments or questions, the review button's always open.


End file.
